


Book,Bottle,Twitchy Hollow.

by IntercranialSubspaces



Category: Kids in the Hall
Genre: Alcohol, Gen, Sex workers, Smoking, Twitchy Hollow
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-16
Updated: 2016-05-16
Packaged: 2018-06-04 15:35:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6664357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IntercranialSubspaces/pseuds/IntercranialSubspaces
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maudre and Joscelyn find themselves in a hard-boiled detective story - children's book - film noir- sci-fi - comedy mash-up au.<br/>NB: in the 'Book, Bottle, Blonde' sketch the children's book writer has a different name. I have changed it to Rick for personal reasons.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	Book,Bottle,Twitchy Hollow.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maudre and Joscelyn are busy at work in the '90's. Meanwhile, in a time-frame far, far away, Bartender Sam and his live-in customer Rick (a popular, yet somewhat unfulfilled children's book writer), discuss bothersome things. Who is the intriguing stranger that interrupts them?
> 
> A link to the KitH sketches that inspired, or are referenced in, this fic is at the end of the chapter (YouTube playlist)
> 
> btw, this chapter is written for Kevin McDonald's birthday, 16.5.16. Happy Birthday!  
> Also, the chapter is complete but I might come back to tidy it up so technically its a work in progress.

Rick was slumped over Tickety-Tick the typewriter, clutching at the last waves of his Tequila high before the inevitable hangover kicked in. Just maybe his publishers would accept the less fluffy themes in #13 of the 'Twitchy Hollow' series. He had a hunch that his readers could handle cute served with a side order of intrigue. So he had followed his instincts and the pages of 'Bear by the Water: A Fuzzy Mystery' had piled up on his desk quicker than the cigarette ends in his ashtray.  
There was just one thing that bothered him though...

* * * * *

"Hey Jos, why is it you never see flies in the winter?"

"It's too cold, eh. They are only little."

"Yeah, but ya don't even see them indoors, where it's warm. Where do they go?

"You miss flies?"

"Nah, I was just wondering. Hey, that reminds me of a joke about eating watermelon with no...Oh, tell you later."

* * * * *

"Trouble with the book, Rick?"

"No, it's going real well, Sam. Real well. New blood at Medallion Publishing. OK, so I still can't mention world-weary whores. Or whores of any disposition at all. But Fuzzy does a little sleuthing...oh, and they all get to stay up late! Kids today ain't gonna buy that six o'clock bedtime crap."

"I guess they won't."

"Times are moving fast and 'Twitchy Hollow' is moving with them."

"Time flies like an arrow. Hey, that reminds me of a joke about bananas..."

"Stow it, Sam. I need your help. Theres one thing that's bothering me."

"Is it do those poodles with their fur dyed pink ever get mistaken for cotton candy and eaten?"

"Well it is now. OK Sam, theres two things bothering me..."

* * * * *

"Anyway, as I was saying, that is why I put the dog back and got the snake instead. No sneezing with a snake."

"But what about your fluffy red sweater?"

"It is synthetic, eh. Polyester. If it was real wool, or hair I would be...atchoo, atchoo all the time."

"Red nose, watery eyes."

"Not a good look for business, eh"

"Speaking of which..."

"I have to go. See you later"

"Oh, damn. Just when I was going to ask about the thing that's been bothering me."

* * * * *

Rick couldn't help looking twice at the blonde who had just walked in to Sam's bar.  
Perhaps it was his upright posture. Now there's a guy who learned deportment the old-fashioned way, he thought, chasing away memories of a stack of books sliding from his head with another swig of his whiskey sour.  
Or perhaps it was that figure. Lines and angles in all the right places, set off by a well-cut suit, complete with waistcoat and a hat at that just-so tilt that drove girls crazy. Some things never go out of style, Rick observed. And he himself still favoured a 1940's dress code, decade out of date though it was. But it was when Rick was sneaking a third look, this time at the blonde's big baby blues, that he noticed tear tracks disappearing into the man's mustache,and the discrete sniffling into a starched handkerchief. Rick's weakness for anything with a wet pink nose (a quality that made his novels so likeable), kicked in then and kicked in hard.

"Mister, you look like you could do with a drink. What'll you have? I'm buying."  
"Why thank you for your hospitality on such a stormy evening. This rough weather has started to give me a cold. a...choo. I'll take a sweet sherry to fend off a fever."  
"Sweet sherry, Sam. And make it a double.  
"You should've worn a raincoat"  
"Ah, those are such familiar words to me. My darling wife was forever insisting I had to wear a raincoat. I never really understood why though because when I put one on she would just roll her lovely eyes. I fear I tested her patience rather too often. a...tchoo."  
"So that's the kind of trouble you're in. A double-crossing dame. I knew it the moment you walked in. Either that or a loan shark closing in."  
"Ha ha. My good fellow, of course I'm not in trouble. I only fear that I am in a strange neighbourhood and I may be late returning home to read my granddaughter her bedtime story. Little Tracey is all I have in the world until...Mmm. What a lovely sherry."  
"So what brings you to our neck of the woods?"  
"Woods? Ah, I often take an evening stroll by the water. I must have ventured a tad further than usual tonight and got turned around somehow as the light faded."  
"Be careful on your way back. Stray off the streets here and you might find yourself in a grizzly's nesting area, ain't that right Rick." Sam said with a wink. "Or is it the gentle giraffes you need to watch out for?"  
"Its always the quiet ones, Sam."  
"Of course. But I have my cane and I fancy I am not entirely unworldly. My goodness, I have left muddy tracks all over your floor. What a damnable nuisance this wet weather is."  
"Don't worry about it. Its time for me to sweep up and lock up anyway. Don't you need to get back to work, Rick?."  
"I guess you're right, Sam. I've left Fuzzy hanging, and he don't like..."  
"You know Fuzzy?"  
"Know him? I created him."  
"I...don't understand."  
"I think you could say I've taught him all he knows. And Fuzzy knows Twitchy Hollow like the back of his Bear hand. Ain't that right, Sam? Hey, wait mister. One for the road and then I'll...You've left your cane..." Rick called out as the snappily- dressed, yet muddy-shoed stranger hurried out the door, with only a repressed sneeze for a farewell.  
"See you around." he sighed.  


"What's bothering you, Rick?"  
"Never mind that, Sam. I want to know what was bothering him. That was some of the fakest sneezing I ever heard."  
"I guess it was, but there's something else. I didn't want to contradict a customer, but Rick. We both know the truth. It hasn't rained a drop for weeks."

[View a YouTube playlist of the sketches referenced in this fic here: [https://www.youtube.com/playlist?](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLepkcLG_2ncpNrsC0I93oRTxAoQwzXSpT)

[list=PLepkcLG_2ncpNrsC0I93oRTxAoQwzXSpT](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLepkcLG_2ncpNrsC0I93oRTxAoQwzXSpT) ]


End file.
